


【The Lord of The Rings】【A/L】A Night

by agigigi



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Or Sort Of, Reincarnation, dejavu, trashy wiriting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 02:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agigigi/pseuds/agigigi
Summary: Aragron dreamt about his forgotten past.





	【The Lord of The Rings】【A/L】A Night

**Author's Note:**

> Trashy writing lol.
> 
> It was harrrd but came out eventually

Aragorn opened his eyes, or to be specific,opened his eyelids. Albeit to his flickering lashes that trembled like butterfly wings on a flower, his eyes kept still, staring at the hovering darkness above him which crouched down and bent over, with sharp white teeth and an evil grin.

Within the next blink, the bizarre shape had gone. He could only see his bedroom ceiling, dim and shadowy.

Shadow was now creeping upon his chest. This should be the shadow of his roof lamp reflected from the moon light that sneaked into this room through curtains, but this was giving Aragorn an uneasy feeling.

He stretched his limbs, could almost hear his own joints moaned, and he didn’t care. It was about 2 o’ clock in the morning,and he had just had the wriest, if not one of, dream beyond his wildest imagination, with the screams of shapes like deformed half-human piercing the bloody sky of down. Those shapes were strong, swart, with large hands and thick feet, carrying broad-bladed swords and bow of yew, but they screamed because they were fleeing, fleeing from the battlement and chasers like swift wind behind. Their ugly faces twisted by the fear from their heart; their mouths opened so wide and wild that could swallow a small beast alive; their legs quivered and their feet were padding the ground with all speed they could gather. They ran quick, but no quicker than valiant horses of Rohan behind.

Preys were hunted, their sarcastic yelling and crying could be heard by white mountains stood far beyond, glittering in gold and red by the falling sun in the west. Aragorn’s face had been covered by bloodand dust, but no tiredness and weariness he was seen. He raised his blade and cried:‘Elendil !’, with a flash of whit light an orc’s head was slain.

The little cracking sound of the closet door brought Aragorn’s attention back to reality. He had tried to re-sketch scenes from his dream, slaughter and carcasses lying motionless on the ground. But the dream was fading, colours and faces drifted away, diminishing in the deepest sea of his mind, and no star could shine upon them.

Aragorn opened the lamp, blinking his eyes twice, trying to adjust the pouring brightness that chased away shadows in the corners. He glazed around his bedroom----standard single ensuite for college students. His sight fixed on his study for a while, staring at it so burnt and hard, yet the desk still, no monster or creepy shape crouched beneath it,

Aragorn mocked at himself for his over-tense, deciding to blame this bad dream to the extreme pressure before exams. It’s common for university students to stress out for the incoming final, and there is nothing special to it. He tried to calm down, but his throat was burning, like fire licking woods, or like claws of beasts scratching his trachea. So he went out of bed, needing something warm for a drink. Tea or coffee, he didn’t care.

He made himself Cappuccino with plenty of milk in. With the normal habit of no sugar, he poured two tea spoons of cubic sugar this time. It is said that sugar has a strong calming effect, used to treat panic in the long past, and he decided to go with superstition now. Aragorn held his mug up, leaning to the kitchen table, sipping his over-sweeten coffee.It was hot, very hot, so he swayed his cup gently, blowing the surface of the liquid. The brown coffee was tilted a little, with small ripples blossomed on top,like a pound in a soothing spring rain. 

His thoughts started to flow again,streaming from the head, falling and winding to the unexisted land beyond. He saw dome came, with from far away the shadow of night melted. The long arm of light stretched in the east, red light glowing from the horizon. Men and horses glimmered in gold,their armours and spears reflected the shine of rising sun. Day had leaped tosky. The red rim of the sun rose over the dark shoulders of the land. Powerful and young the sun climbed, night departed.

And behold! There stood Theoden King son ofThengel, his figure tall and valiant; in his eyes wisdom and mightiness forged by the pass of time shown. His face was of a living king, highly and majesty helooked, the King of Mark. Beside him stood Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar,the Elfstone, Dunadan, King of the White Tree, hire of Isildur, the most mighty blood inherited from the Westerness sailed from the grey sea.

The plain of Pelennor was beneath their feet,green grass had been trampled by horses, boots, orcs feet, and maybe even hobbits. Blood splashed from here to there, piles of body mounded on the turf, so high that almost conceal the sky.

This should not be true, Aragorn thought to himself, Theoden had long perished before he came to the battle of Pelennor, before he could deliver the aid with all the speed he had. Nor he was fighting on foot in such battlement. 

So he looked around, but saw no Theoden Kingof Rohan, but a slender Elf by his side. His eyes were of sea blue, glittering like diamonds in sunlight. Aragorn saw tree, water, freshness and freedom from those eyes, but he also saw courage and friendship, valiance and allegiance.Finally he saw affection, the love and adornment of elf poured out like water,poured to his heart and mind. So King of Gondor smiled, and leaned to kiss the Elf.

Aragorn almost jumped to his feet when he heard somebody talking to him from far off. His mug fell from his hand, just before clashing to the ground was it grabbed by a long, pale hand. But the remaining coffee had splashed, nobody could save that.

‘You are not sleepwalking, aren’t you?’ Hisfriend smirked at him, putting the cup back to kitchen table,‘Saw somebody went to the kitchen years ago, wandering if he was drowned in the sink.’

Aragorn sighed, ‘If it’s that easy.’

He turned around to find tissues, but was suddenly hugged from the back. Legolas’ long arms had crossed his waist,tightening around his belt. He felt the blond man leaned against him, put his jawon the shoulder, pinching at his collarbone.

‘Anything wrong?’ He asked softly behind.

Aragorn chose to say nothing but to lean back,he unbuckled Legolas’s hands, stroking gently his palm. The night is still deep outside, they could hear nothing but the wind blowing trees , and leaves moanedfrom the chilly air.

Finally he asked: ‘ Would you beside me ?’For anything that happened and will happen.

He knew this is a statement rather than question, so he cared no answer. He turned facing Legolas, seeing the unreadable grievances in his eyes. ‘Do not sorrow, for sorrowness eventually passes.’

He said gently, and kissed the fair man, or kissed by him, it didn’t matter.

He remembered Socrates’s famous saying,that knowledge is recollection. You have the soul travelled far from the past, dwelling temporarily in this torso at present, but would ultimately relished back to heaven in the future . So Aragorn would then learn from his dreams, about his glorious history that had been forgotten in the flow of time.

END


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